


Admit the Feelings That Frighten You

by zonaskye



Series: Prompts [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Zevran - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Sexy Zevran, Zevran Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 05:32:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4907338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zonaskye/pseuds/zonaskye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zevran discovers, through witnessing Wendy the Grey Warden slay an ogre in a super badass way, that he has feelings for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Admit the Feelings That Frighten You

Wendy let out a final war cry, a blood-curdling screech, that caused her group to stop in their tracks and turn their attention to her.

The group of revolutionaries had slain the horde of darkspawn they'd stumbled across on their way back to camp, and now all that remained was the massive ogre that accompanied them. Leliana and Morrigan were a few feet away from the beast; Leliana rapidly firing off arrows covered in ice with her Dalish bow she'd found in the Brecilian Forest, and Morrigan was wielding the beautiful oak staff she'd claimed in Denerim. This left Zevran and Wendy to fight the ogre up close; the beast's foul breath pungent in their nostrils, making their eyes water and throats dry.

However, this did not deter the two elves, for their focus in any battle was strong-willed and difficult to sway.

When he heard Wendy's battle cry, Zevran's heart stopped. He has made it his personal mission to protect the Warden when trouble was present, and fear that misfortune had befallen her made his pulse quicken, beads of sweat springing to his forehead.

Everyone present looked up just in time to see Wendy, sword raised, swing herself on top of the ogre, claiming the final blow to its skull, running her sword straight through the monster.

Soaked in the beast's blood, Wendy sank down into the grass, panting as she sheathed her sword.

Her companions ran to her side, concerned for their friend, as well as extremely impressed.

However, Zevran held back from the two women crowding around the Warden. He'd never seen the little elf show so much passion in combat before; she usually preferred to work as a team to defeat their foes. Today, Wendy owned the battlefield, hacking through any threatening force with precision and grace. Watching her take charge and show aggression fascinated Zevran, and he found himself staring at her far too often when he was supposed to be fighting.

The assassin stood a ways off, an expression of pure awe on his tattooed face, as Leliana and Morrigan helped Wendy to her feet.

“Is everything alright, Zev? You aren't injured, are you?” Wendy inquired in a worried tone.

Zevran cleared his dry throat before answering, in his deep Antivan accent, “I am fine, Warden. Let us move on.”

He began walking in the direction of their camp, and the rest of the group followed, although Wendy was not satisfied with his answer.

She and Zevran had grown close over the few months since he'd been recruited, bonding over their race and similar sense of humor. He flirted with her often, which she reveled in, but understood that he treated many women this way.

Either way, Wendy enjoyed dreaming of a possible future with him, in spite of the odds stacked against them.

 

 

_____________

 

 

They made it back to their camp with no further trouble, and Wynne immediately rushed to Wendy's side to tend her injuries.

“That's alright, Wynne, it's mostly ogre blood,” Wendy smiled grimly, suppressing pain from the gash in her shoulder.

“Don't be silly, dear,” Wynne brushed off her comment and put an arm around the elf, guiding her to the tent on the edge of the camp where the health supplies were stored.

Before Zevran could walk too far, Leliana grabbed his arm and teased, “So, our dear Grey Warden was looking awfully good out there, don't you think?”

Even in the dark, the pink that rushed to Zevran's cheeks could be seen clearly by Leliana.

“Ahh, she is an attractive woman, she often looks good, in battle or not,” Zevran attempted to play his behavior off casually.

“But you feel more than physical attraction to her, do you not?” Leliana smiled, enjoying the way the elf squirmed under her grip.

“I assure you, I do not know what you speak of,” Zevran finally wrenched away from the archer's hold on his arm and stomped away, grumbling obscenities to himself.

He approached Oghren and Sten, who were seated by the fire, eating stew. Oghren was, to no surprise, already drunk and hardly able to raise the spoon of broth to his lips. Sten sat silently, sipping from his own bowl of stew.

“Good evening, my friends,” Zevran greeted them cheerfully, helping himself to a bowl of stew.

The dwarf mumbled something incoherent in response, and Sten remained soundless. Zevran cared not for his companions' apathy, however, for he had intentions for sitting by the fire separate from making small talk with his friends.

As he situated himself on a log by the fire, he scanned the entrance of the tent Wendy had gone through. A low light emanated through the tent flaps, just enough for him to catch sight of her.

There she was, still covered in ogre blood, but her shirt was gone and only her breast band remained. A white strip of cloth tied around her shoulder acted as a bandage, and she and Wynne were having a conversation Zevran couldn't quite make out.

Wendy looked up from the stool she was perched on, and their eyes met. She smiled at him, a wide, bright eyed smile that lit up her entire face.

Zevran quickly averted his eyes, and Oghren snorted at the elf's pink cheeks, making inappropriate noises and gestures.

“I am... No longer hungry,” Zevran dumped the remains of his stew in the fire and sauntered off into the woods.

He was unsure of his destination, but he required time away from his companions, to clear his head.

Thoughts of Wendy, of his Grey Warden, the elf he'd sworn to protect, plagued his mind. He'd been intimate with so many people, very rarely did he ever develop true feelings for any of them, and this time, he hadn't even been intimate with the object of his affections. The feeling growing in his chest was so different and new, he was unsure of how to handle it.

Zevran was only about five minutes into his walk when he heard leaves crunching behind him. He stopped in his tracks and turned around, his hand reaching for a dagger tucked away in his belt. The footsteps ceased, and he surveyed the dark trees nervously as he pulled out the dagger. He spun around, flinging his arm out violently with an, “A-ha!” only to have his weapon clink against a long sword.

“Zevran, it's just me,” alarmed, Wendy stood with her sword blocking the assassin's dagger form coming into contact with her already injured shoulder.

The realization that his attacker was not an attacker at all, but a friend, did not seem to change his mind, and with another yell, he pulled out his other dagger and began fighting.

His daggers intentionally missed their mark, but just barely, telling himself that he was in control of this situation. He saw the fear in Wendy's eyes, saw the confusion written in her beautiful, pale face, and decided it was time to end it.

With a single movement, Wendy's sword fell to the forest floor, and Zevran pushed her back to a large tree, the dagger in his right hand dangerously close to her neck.

“I could kill you right now, you know this, yes?” Zevran was breathing heavily, his face close enough to feel her cold breath on his lips.

Tears filled her big green eyes, “Zev, you wouldn't hurt me, would you?”

A moment of silence passed between then, the only sounds being their heavy breathing and the creatures hiding in the woods. Zevran's eyes were wild, even beast-like, as he tried desperately to grasp what was left of his defense, wanting so badly to keep Wendy at arms length.

Finally, the elf sighed, and sheathed his daggers, releasing her and turning away.

Wendy let out a sigh of relief, “What's gotten into y-”

Before she could finish her sentence, Zevran turned back to her, grabbing Wendy's hips, and pushed her back up against the tree, kissing her deeply.

When the initial surprise had passed, Wendy sank into the Zevran's kiss, tangling her fingers in his blond hair. The Antivan kissed like a starving man eating bread for the first time in months; a want and a need wrapped into one moment, gentle and impatient all at once.

When he pulled away, stars in his eyes, he said, “I apologize, Grey Warden, for my behavior and the kiss. Unless there is a chance you enjoyed that part?”

Wendy's cheeks were flushed and her throat was raspy as she said, “Zevran, never pretend you want to kill me again. I care about you far too much to bring any harm to you. As for the kiss...”

She eyed him for a moment, waiting for his silent permission, to lean into him once more, leaving a small peck on his lips.

A wide smile broke out on Zevran's face as Wendy whispered, “Dork.”

She took his hand and lead him, like an over-excited child, back to the camp.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time writing Zev, and I loved it. I've literally been writing this little piece for hours, because I just love him so much. Feedback would be MUCH appreciated!


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